


A dream only time would fade...

by Gracie_P8



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Universe, Being Haunted, F/M, Inspired by Anastasia (1997 & Broadway), Nor is there a Rasputin either, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Raoul is a guy down on his luck while Christine is pure and homeless, Recovered Memories, Slow Burn, There's no cute puppy in this one tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracie_P8/pseuds/Gracie_P8
Summary: After the revolution, Empress Valerius offers a reward for the return of her missing granddaughter. A girl called Christine resembles the Grand Duchess herself, but can't remember her life before the revolution. Christine and two conmen down on their luck embark on a journey and on the way, discover secrets about Christine's past...
Relationships: Comte Philippe de Chagny/La Sorelli, Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I hit a wall with “In My Dreams, Shadows Call” and “Dreams of my Past (Rewrite)” and when I can’t write, I’m stressed. Then I had this idea for an Anastasia AU in my head for a while and since then, my mind has been weaving it into a fanfic. I just sat down and tried writing it and finished this chapter within a few days. This is more than I've written in the past few weeks!  
> This is an Anastasia AU which will mostly follow the musical but I’ll throw in a few easter eggs from the 1997 movie and a few changes would be made to better suit the characters in the story. We’re starting with a prologue of Christine at 7 years old. Comments, kudos and words of encouragement are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

“Why must you go?” Christine asked as her godmother, the Dowager Empress Madame Valerius, gently fixed the bow in her hair. 

“I’ve stayed too long here,” The old woman smiled sadly, she was set to leave for Manhattan the next morning and had visited the royal family during their stay in the holiday palace in Paris… The parting would be very difficult for her youngest granddaughter, Christine Daae. The two of them had always been close… 

“Take me to Manhattan with you!” the girl turned to face Madame Valerius as she finished tying the ribbon.

“You’ll visit me with your sisters and brother… and we’ll cross the bridge together and we’ll go see the ballet every year on your birthday!”

“Take me with you now!” The dowager couldn’t help but smile at her granddaughter’s infectious excitement and hope at the prospect… Christine’s grin was as radiant as the sun as she said those words… 

“I already have my darling Christine Daae, wherever I go, you’ll always be with me” the child’s eyes lit up as she saw her godmother pull out a music box “I have a special gift for you to make the separation easier…”

“For me?” she looked at the object. 

“Our little secret…” the old woman twisted the gears underneath three times and it opened as a beautiful melody played…

“It plays our lullaby!” she whispered, awestruck.

“You can play it at night before you go to sleep. And pretend that it’s me singing.”

Christine smiled shyly as she started to hum softly to herself:

_ “Far away, long ago _

_ Glowing dim as an ember _

_ Things my heart used to know _

_ Things it yearns to remember” _

The two finished the song as the music box slowly stopped playing its melody  _ “And a song, someone sings… Once Upon a December…” _

That was when Madame Valerius pulled out a locket and put the chain around her granddaughter’s neck, showing her the engraving on the back of the locket “Read it…”

“My Christine, you will always be in my heart…” she looked up to see her grandmother stand up to leave “Thank you, I’ll always keep it with me!” 

Little did they know that the happiness they shared together would be short-lived after a fateful event… 


	2. End of an era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place 9 years after the 1st chapter to explain how Christine had amnesia.   
> FAIR WARNING: This chapter may or may not contain graphic descriptions of violence...

No one expected it, not even the most trusted of lieutenants. On that fateful night, the spark of unhappiness against the royals was fanned into a flame that would destroy their lives forever… 

Loud screams echoed the palace. There she was now, left alone, bloodied and bruised, in the vast hall. The princess tried to flee, to find her dear loved mother and siblings in the warm embrace of her father… the only thought in her head was to be safe and warm, for everything to be fine again, but sadly… it was too late… 

There they were, laying on the ground… corpses were scattered all around her… the view made her heart clench as she felt herself trembling with grief and fear. W _ hy would someone do something so cruel? Why would someone do that? What have they done to make this happen? Why couldn’t it have been her? Why them? Where would she go now?  _ She felt like suffocating in all these questions. 

There was a loud gunshot and a piercing pain in her chest. 

And everything went black. 

* * *

Sorelli stood at the doorway of Madame Valerius’ bedroom, staring blankly at her mistress and closest friend… she did not need to speak a word to know what happened…

"Madame..."

"All of them?" Madame Valerius trembled, crumpling up the letter in her hands and soaking it with her tears  _ "All of them?" _

Sorelli hurried into the room to comfort her, understanding what had happened…

"All of them are gone, Sorelli…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got dark real fast. I do apologize.


	3. At night all alone in my dreams...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This chapter and the previous one took place in Sweden, just for clarification. In chapter 4, we’ll get to some Parisian shenanigans!  
> Sorry for the long wait! ‘O’level burnout is real! And schoolwork usually has to come first! Also, would anyone be interested if I made a playlist for this fic? Let me know!

_ Voices. There were distant voices. She was confused. Her head ached and her entire body ached. The voices were unfamiliar and there was a low hum, was it the sound of an engine? _

_ There was a lurch, and she turned, but the movement left her feeling weak and dizzy. She tried to sit up, but instead felt something shift underneath her, and with a terrifying motion, she felt herself start to slip. She tried to move, she pushed herself up with all of her strength, but that made the falling faster, and she hit the ground with a painful thump. _

* * *

She woke up on a hard bed, pain radiating in her ribs and throbbing pain on her head. Her eyelids and most of her body felt heavy like stone and when she tried to speak, her throat felt dry and she did not know what she wanted to say. 

“It’s okay, my dear, it’s okay,” a middle-aged woman sat on the bed and took her hand “We will be taking care of you,”

* * *

“What happened to you? Where did you come from?” the woman, Mother Svenna had asked her the same questions when she woke up, waiting patiently.

“I _don’t know,_ ” the girl would reply, her voice small and uncertain. No one had any idea where she came from. When they had found her, she was breathing heavily and barely alive, her tracks covered by the heavy snow. 

* * *

“I have a little something for you,” Mother Svenna gently pressed a locket into the girl’s hands. The locket had a small engraving on it with the phrase _“My Christine, you will always be in my heart…”_ She examined it closely, not sure what she was supposed to make of them. 

“Nothing?” Mother Svenna’s eyes glinted with genuine concern as she was met with an embarrassed shrug “You had it when we found you… I believe ‘Christine’ is your name, don’t you remember anything about it?”

_“I don’t, I’m sorry,”_ she wanted to cry, the girl almost felt like an empty vessel of someone she used to be, a girl with no name, no memories and no past… sometimes, she wondered if she was actually dead. Ever since that night she was found, she had been haunted by ghosts… ghosts who would sneak up on her when she slept and prey on her vulnerability… 

“Don’t worry my dear, _everything_ takes its time…” Mother Svenna cooed gently and reassuringly as she changed the girl’s bandages. 

“Christine sounds nice,” She finally said at last, after a long moment of silence. 

* * *

A year passed since Christine had slowly recovered from the accident that happened to her, left alone to fight for survival as she wandered aimlessly from village to village, taking up small jobs and fending for herself whenever she could until the people deemed her too insane whenever her hysterical screaming and panic attacks became too loud for anyone to tolerate. Her eerie dreams and terrifying nightmares often left her hollow and haunted whenever she tried to find out who she was. She often warmed herself up in the cold winters by the little hope that the answer was in the next town. Until they cast her out again.

* * *

During those difficult times, Christine daydreamed of a distant memory whispering a place she somehow yearned for... _Manhattan._ She didn’t know whether if it was instinct or a forgotten memory telling her to go there, but she _knew_ answers would await her there… 

* * *

The snow pelted the young woman trying to keep warm in the bleak winters. She was tired, she hadn’t slept in a real bed ever since she had left the convent years ago, and she didn’t remember what it felt like to live comfortably. Her instincts kicked in and she began to look for a place to curl up in for the night. As Christine walked, she spotted a narrow, dark alley, or maybe it was a small street. She wasn’t sure, to be honest. For some reason, she felt safe here.

“Sorry, who are you?” Christine turned to face a woman, her dark hair unkempt and grey eyes glinting with suspicion and curiosity. For a moment, she hesitated before answering “I just want to find a place to sleep,”

“I know a place where you might be able to sleep,” the dark-haired girl whispered, “Come with me!” Christine blindly followed the woman around the corner to a small door. Gently, the woman knocked on the door and it swung open to welcome the two girls. 

* * *

Inside was an empty room and there were sacks filled to the brim scattered around the room and tattered blankets. 

“Nearly everyone is out for work but I’m meeting someone in a few minutes. He’s just a little late tonight.” The woman shrugged nonchalantly, however, Christine was not paying attention as she tried to process the information. 

These women were soliciting on the streets… true, she was desperate for money, but she could never see herself in the streets waiting for a man to take her home and make love with her without her consent. 

Looking around for a place to sleep, she noticed a poster with a man’s face on it. It read:

**WANTED**

**DEAD OR ALIVE**

**RAOUL DE CHAGNY**

**FOR FRAUD, THEFT…**

“... and smuggling immigrants out illegally…” Christine murmured, her fingers tracing the words.

“Oh, that man you saw on the poster? You might want to look out for him! He’s a notorious con man! So far, he has successfully smuggled 95% of his clients out of the country! All of Europe is searching for him! But don’t worry, he’s somewhere in Paris waiting for his next daring adventure so you can’t possibly fall victim to him!” 

Christine nodded mindlessly, mulling over the man she saw in the poster. _“Raoul de Chagny…”_ she muttered to herself, taking a blanket to wrap around herself. It had been a while since she had a blanket and that was always a luxury in harsh times like this. She pulled the blanket and closed her eyes.

Her eyelids were heavy and she fell into a deep slumber, knowing where she had to go to now… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! This is R/C! Another reason why I put “In My Dreams, Shadows Call” and “Dreams of My Past (Rewrite)” on hiatus! My R/C needs haven’t been met!  
> Next up, we meet Raoul, Phillipe, and Erik!


	4. Have You Heard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, three years passed and let’s see what everyone’s up to!

Three years have passed since the execution of the royals, and much had changed. After the attack, life had been gloomy and dark, ever since the last of the Daae family had been killed that fateful night. No one seemed truly happy. However, in the small Parisian village of St. Marie, gossip had kept them busy. Rumours had stated that while all the royals had been killed that night, there might be one daughter who was still alive… Christine Daae… The last grand duchess.

The rumour caught the attention of a tall, scruffy-looking street rat. He had been roaming the street when he heard such things, he instantly ran to his older brother to go tell him of the scheme brewing in his mind. His days as a con man would be over and now, this was their chance to leave and get their lives together! 

“Phillipe, have you heard of the rumours surrounding the Grand Duchess Christine Daae?” Raoul asked excitedly as he pulled out the newest issue of the local newspaper he found lying on the streets, shoving the front article into his face. It was about the missing princess and there was a photograph of her at sixteen-years-old. 

Phillipe let out an exasperated sigh as he read the headlines “‘The Grand Duchess Christine Daae Lives’?  _ Mon dieu _ , what is this preposterous nonsense, little brother?”

“I’ve been thinking of this Christine Daae…” 

“Not you too, Raoul!” the older man rubbed his temples and shook his head “It’s all just a bunch of crazy talk! A rumour!”

“Say, Phillipe, didn’t you always want to go to Manhattan? And you happened to have had a history with Sorelli...” the street rat shrugged nonchalantly as a ghost of a smirk played on his lips. 

“I don’t like the sound of this…” Phillipe recognized that smirk anywhere when his little brother thought he was being clever.    
“The Dowager Empress would be there,” Raoul added “One of Sorelli’s closest friends and the only remaining member of the royal family. They say she’s offering a princely fee to whoever brings her granddaughter back safe and sound…” 

“Quit this preposterous idea!” Phillipe glared sternly at his younger brother.

“Listen, Phillipe, the Daae family lived the life everyone wanted,” the young man continued “We will find a girl who kind of looks like the duchess herself, and then we dress her up and take her to Manhattan to meet her grandmother! Her grandmother finds her missing granddaughter, we get the cash and you get to see Sorelli again- it’s an everybody wins situation!”

“A terrible idea but… go on,” 

“Granted they couldn’t find her corpse, which means there’s no proof the princess died from her injuries during the revolution three years ago!” 

“Oh no, I recognize that face anywhere…” Phillipe warned, “It’s that face you make when you think you’re being clever but something goes terribly wrong…” 

“Do you have a better idea?”

“There’s more to a tiara and a pretty dress to become a grand duchess!” 

“Meet with me at the black market later this afternoon, we’re gonna go on a scavenger hunt…”

* * *

A loud bang echoed across the street, Erik turned to find the source of the sudden explosion.

“No! Please, no… I beg you… no…” 

The man turned to face a woman whispering desperately to herself, tears streaming down her face and her broom laid near his feet. As he came closer, he saw a young woman of about nineteen or twenty. Her coat was many sizes too big for her and torn from wear and tear. Her hair was wild and unruly, from what he could see through the grime, was a deep auburn. She was sobbing and shaking her head, whimpering with her arms wrapped around her thin, waif-like body.  _ What was all the fuss about? _

* * *

A loud bang echoed down the road, barely holding back a shriek, the young woman ran to seize her body, throwing the broom wildly as she curled up into a ball. 

“No! Please, no… I beg you… no…” she whimpered to herself as images of bullets and blood flashed through her mind. 

Over the blood pounding in her ears and her resounding heartbeat, she felt a firm grasp pull her out of her panic attack, voice calm and stoic. 

“It was a truck engine, mademoiselle, there’s nothing to be terrified of anymore…”

However, those reassuring words did not calm her down at all as she continued, resisting the urge to vomit as her stomach clenched “Guns… Firing… Soldiers…”

“The war is over, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore…”

Glancing up, she saw a tall man around his late thirties to early fourties, wearing a mask that obscured most of his face, the thing that caught her attention was not the mask however, it was the military uniform which caused her to snap back to reality. 

“Please monsieur, I promise to stop screaming and crying, I promise to work twice as hard! Just please, let me keep this job!” 

* * *

Erik tried to suppress a small gasp but failed once he had a proper look at her face. She was beautiful in an understated, modest way. The contours of her face and neck were smooth, slender and graceful. Even though she was grimy, cold, wet, thin, ragged, and terrified, her beauty was enough to take his breath away. He noticed her shivering from the cold and with fear. 

“You’re shaking,” he finally spoke up, breaking the silence “There’s a teashop just a few blocks down the road, let me-”

“Thank you,” she stiffened and grabbed her broom hastily, having a regal aura around her despite her appearance “But jobs are hard to come by and I need the money,” scurrying away before turning to face the man “But thank you for the offer!”

“I’m here every day!” he called out from his spot, feeling as if she looked familiar, but couldn’t identify who she looked like…

* * *

“Grand duchesses do not grow on trees,” Phillipe sighed as he browsed through the objects in the black market. 

“Now we need something personal to show that old lady…” Raoul shook his head, inspecting what could be considered valuable. A music box from a nearby stall caught his eye, twinkling in the sunset… 

“Ah, I see how interested you are in this little thing!” The plump man noticed the con man inspecting the trinket “It has the Daae family symbol! It could belong to one of the royals, I could never part with it!”   
“Two cans of beans, comrade?” The young man negotiated, smirking as he knew that it was difficult to find food in such times.

“Done!” he threw the music box into his hands and hastily ran off with the two cans as the other hungry street vendors chased him down the street. 

“Do you believe in fairy tales, Phillipe?”

“Once upon a time, I did…”

“We’re going to create a fairy tale the whole world would believe!” And he was determined to make it all happen… Now all they needed was the girl and it could be the biggest con in history! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I think I would like to find a Beta Reader for this fic (and a few other fics). It would be mainly for continuity and checking if someone is being OOC because as many times I reread my work I always seem to miss something. If you are interested, please send me a message. Thanks!


	5. No memories but these...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far.

To say that auditions for the Grand Duchess Christine Daae were going well would be a complete and utter lie. 50 actresses and Raoul could sense his brother’s patience and stamina wearing down. And he couldn’t blame him. 

So far, out of these 50 girls, only 10 had the same naturally curly, long, auburn hair as the Grand Duchess Christine Daae. Of these 10, only 3 had the same eye colour as the Grand Duchess herself! The rest of the actresses either had horrible dye-jobs or didn’t even bother to try. 

“Nice, nice, very nice, thank you!” Raoul forcefully smiled as the actress strutted off stage, crossing her name off the list with a flourish. 

“I look like a duchess and dance like a feather!” she called out from behind the curtain.

“O-kay, next please,” Philippe finally spoke up.

A slightly older woman slowly walked onto the stage, a long brown fur coat trailing behind her, a cigarette holder protruding from her lips. Once she reached the centre, she wheezed, gasping for air.

“Grandma,” the woman drawled, her voice gravelly and sultry “It’s me”. And in an instant, she dropped her coat to the ground, revealing the shorter version of a sailor’s dress “Christine Daae”

She shook her hips and took a long drag from her cigarette.

“You have got to be kidding me…”

* * *

“It’s me. Grandma. Your precious Christine Daae.” The actress read her lines monotonously. 

“It’s not good,” he pronounced, to the protesting woman in front of him.

“You’re not even watching!” she complained and the con man raised an eyebrow. “I do not need to,” he explained coolly “Your accent is abysmal, you don’t look any bit like her, and you couldn’t act to save your life. I'm trying to pull off the biggest con in history, not make myself the biggest joke in Europe! Get out!”

“Thank you, ladies,” Philippe led the three girls in front of them to the exit “We’ll let you know,” 

“I’m not really an actress,” she confessed with a shrug. 

“No…”

“Come on girls, let’s go, it’s all an illegal getaway…”

“What you’re doing is against the law?!” The actress pointed an accusing finger at Raoul “If you weren’t  _ so handsome, _ Raoul De Chagny, I’d report you!” 

“Out,” Raoul waved dismissively before repeating again “OUT!” causing the women to get out of the abandoned holiday palace.

* * *

“Well, dear brother,” Philippe sighed “We’re done for. There’s no one to pretend to be the Grand Duchess Christine Daae.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a downer, Philippe!” Raoul replied “She’s probably somewhere right under our noses! One look at that box and the Dowager Empress will think that she’s the real deal!” before fiddling with the music box, searching for a way to open it and giving up soon after.

“Stop fiddling with that thing! You’re going to break it!”

“I can’t get it open!”

“It’s a fake!”

“Oh, how do you know?”

“No one spots a fake like Count Philippe de Chagny,” he shook his head at the memory “biggest fake of them all…”

A loud knock resounded across the palace and the two brothers began to panic. 

“I knew it! These women ratted on us!” Raoul groaned as he hid behind the sofa. 

“At least they’ll feed us in jail!” Phillipe snarked, hiding behind a trunk.

* * *

Christine gently knocked on the door of the palace, uncertainty filling her mind  _ “What if he says no? What if I find myself alone again?” _ She shook her head and tried to push those doubts to the back of her mind, before pushing the door open when there was no reply. The young woman made her way inside as she explored the castle. The rooms were mostly dark, very little light filtered in through the windows. Cobwebs and dust had covered almost every surface. Tables, chairs, tapestries, along with other objects, laid in disarray. It was uncomfortably quiet but still… she was grateful for the shelter from the unforgiving winter. 

Christine jumped up to the air and let out a small gasp as she saw a man crouching behind a sofa, looking clearly flustered. 

“I’m Christine. I’m looking for someone named Raoul, Raoul de Chagny…” she began before a younger man spoke up “I’m Raoul de Chagny, what do you want?” 

“I need exit papers and I was told you were the only one who can help me,” Christine explained as he brushed past her into another room.  _ “Rude,” _ she silently thought to herself, glaring at him. 

“Exit papers are expensive,” he shrugged. She was used to people ignoring her but she still hated it. 

“I saved a little money,”

“The right papers cost a lot,” he brushed past her again back into the main entryway.  _ “So this is how it’s going to be, huh?” _ Christine thought to herself before blocking the entryway and piped up “You’ll get your money! I used to wash dishes in Denmark and before that, I worked at a hospital in Sweden,” 

“Sweden? That’s a long way from here…” 

“I know, I walked it…” 

“You walked here?” he stared at her, his mouth agape.

“I had no choice…” for the first time, he stared at her… Now she had a proper look at him, he looked rather handsome… if not for that suspicious expression he wore. “Who are you running from?” 

“I’m not running away,” she confessed, “I am running to someone?”

“To who?” he continued interrogating. 

“I don’t know, but I do know they’re waiting for me in Manhattan!”

“You don’t need exit papers,” Raoul shrugged his shoulders, still suspicious of her intent “There’s a canal out there! Just jump in and start swimming! You’ll be there in no time!” before muttering to the older man “What do we do with her, brother? She’s crazy…” 

“I’m not crazy!” she quickly defended.  _ “I’m haunted,” _ she wanted to add but she couldn’t risk any more ridicule...

* * *

“You said something about papers?” Philippe asked, trying to defuse the situation.

“Yes,” the girl shifted impatiently from foot to foot “I need an identity, a legitimate one. And a passport,”

“What’s your last name?” 

“I don’t know,” she looked down at her feet in embarrassment.

“You don’t know?” His eyes widened in shock “Parents’ names?  _ Anything? _ ”

The young woman shook her head “I don’t remember  _ anything _ about my past. I was found somewhere on the side of a road, they only knew what my name was… I couldn’t remember anything before that…” The room was silent before Christine spoke up again as she pulled out a locket “I want to go to Manhattan, I believe my family is there,”

“And what if you couldn’t find them?” he knew he was venturing into a sensitive topic but he somehow wanted to know… 

“At least I know I tried.”

* * *

Christine felt so vulnerable exposing herself to these two strangers,  _ what if they laughed at her? What if they mocked her for her vain efforts? What if…  _   
“Maybe we can help you” Raoul began slowly. His eyes had told her that he was formulating a plan, she didn’t want to know what it was but she knew it would be more complicated than expected. “My brother, Philippe and I, plan to return the Grand Duchess Christine Daae to her grandmother, the Dowager Empress Valerius,” 

“You look a little like her too,” the older man, Philippe, nodded, now seeing the resemblance. 

“And the last of her family is in Manhattan!” he added.

“Are you telling me that you think I’m the Grand Duchess?” she spluttered in shock before turning to notice a portrait behind her, a painting of the Grand Duchess. 

“Look, I’ve seen many girls and none of them look as much like the duchess as you! Look at the portrait!”   
“That’s impossible, she’s been dead for almost three years and-” she backed away before considering it. After all, it  _ was _ possible. She was killed around the same time Christine got into that accident where she lost her family and memories, and it  _ wouldn’t hurt  _ to find out… and the resemblance was uncanny. 

“I guess every orphan would like to think they’re royalty if they sleep on a damp floor,” she nodded slowly. Maybe she could go to Manhattan after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, the next chapter’s gonna be a long one! It was so hard converting "In My Dreams" into dialogue.   
> Come chat with me and receive updates on my fics and other fics on Tumblr @gracie-p8-officialblog


	6. Learn To Do It

“Ready to become the Grand Duchess Christine Daae?” Raoul asked the next morning, holding a leather journal in his hand. 

“I want to go to Manhattan but I don’t want to lie to do it!” True, Christine was excited to leave, but she almost felt like a liar… 

“You don’t know it’s a lie. What if it’s true?” he shrugged nonchalantly, almost unfazed by the possibilities of what could go wrong “Either way, it gets you to Manhattan, Philippe and I get out of here, and we all live happily ever after! Everyone wins!” 

“I wish I had your confidence,” she bit back sarcastically. Sensing the tension, Philippe began as he led Christine to a small mirror in front of him. 

“Christine, what do you see?”   
“I see a skinny little nobody, with no past and no future.” she sighed, her shoulders sagging and she began to slouch. 

“No,” Raoul piped up, unaware of who was listening “I see a beautiful and smart young woman… who on a number of occasions has shown a regal command equal to any royal in the world,” 

“Raoul?” Christine tilted her head slightly, peering at his reflection.

“Just… forget I said that,” he quickly brushed it off, hiding his face. But secretly, she felt a little better by his words. 

“He’s right,” Philippe added for his brother “And I have known my share of royalty. You see my dear, I was a member of the high society,”   
“Yeah, until the revolution where we lost all our money and had resorted to stealing,” Raoul scoffed before Philippe gave him a stern glare. 

“But…” Christine began, wanting to get down to business “How do you become the person you’ve forgotten you ever were?” 

“Take a deep breath,” Philippe instructed “Close your eyes, and imagine… another time, another world…”

“You were born in a palace by the sea,” He slowly began.

“A palace by the sea,” Raoul emphasized. 

“Really? Me? Born in a palace by the sea?” Christine placed a hand over her chest as she saw the breathtaking view from the holiday palace, trying to imagine it all. 

“Yes, that’s right,” Philippe nodded, continuing their history lesson “And you rode horseback when you were only three.”

“Horseback riding! Me?” she shook her head in disbelief.

“And the horse’s name was Romeo,” Raoul interjected, only to receive an odd look from them “What? I’m trying to help you,”

“You often made faces and terrorized the cook! And your tantrums back then made the palace shook!” 

“What a charming child,” the street rat smirked. 

“Was I really that wild?” Christine tried to suppress a small laugh. 

“Wrote the book!” Raoul cheered, smiling at her. 

“But you’d behave when your father gave that look!” 

“Imagine what your long, forgotten past was like!” Raoul smiled at her “Now, we have lots to learn before you can become the Grand Duchess Christine Daae!”

“Alright,” she began, taking it as a challenge “Bring it on!”

* * *

Philippe handed Christine a book “Now, let’s see you walk,” 

Christine had taken her gloves and coat off and was now trying to balance the book on her head, beginning to move around slowly as she waved her arms around to keep balance. 

“Try to float,” he prompted as he walked next to her, demonstrating. 

“Am I floating?” Philippe cringed a little as she stomped and flailed helplessly. 

“Like a sinking boat,” Raoul muttered loud enough for her to hear. She threw the book in his direction, missing him by inches before she argued, slightly frustrated and annoyed “Then why don’t you try it yourself?”

Princess training was so annoying. They would spend days holed up in this dusty palace, drilling rules of courtly etiquette, history lessons, and family trees. She was sick of the two men constantly telling her what to do and what to say, correcting her. What did they know about her own memories? It wasn’t like she knew who she was but still. 

Philippe quickly stood between them and took the book off of his brother’s hands. 

“Let’s learn to bow, shall we?” Philippe took their wrists and pulled them until their fingers intertwined. Christine felt her fingers in Raoul’s strong, firm grip like she was about to kiss her hand.

“Your hands are cold!” she protested, hating how she flinched at his touch. He wasn’t as rough or vulgar as the handsy men she had encountered before, the ones who would try and pin her down to fulfill their own desires, but she still hated his every touch. She knew what men were like, she wouldn’t let her guard down that easily. 

“Well, your hands are rough and I never complained!” Raoul argued back, equally exasperated at the lack of progress they were making. 

“Enough!” poor Philippe looked as tired and annoyed as the both of them “Try to be civil, for my sake. Now, imagine… you are in a ballroom, you are about to dance with your partner, and you bow,”

Christine could see it all clearly, so vivid… almost as if it were a memory. She could hear the music, she could see the beautifully dressed aristocrats waltzing together… subconsciously, she was bending her left knee, bringing her right hand to her chest, bowing her head, and a regal smile on her face. When she stood up, she almost felt like a different person; she was so regal, elegant, and graceful. She opened her eyes to find the two brothers, gobsmacked. 

“How did you do that?” Raoul began slowly, slightly stunned.

“I didn’t teach her,” Philippe added before smiling “Christine, you’re a natural!”

* * *

Now, they were learning the Daae family history and Philippe was in front of a chalkboard, holding a history book in one hand. 

“Now, we memorize the names of the royalty!” Philippe instructed, “Who’s your great-grandmother?”

“Queen Catherine Svenna Daae!” 

“Who’s your great-grandmother?”

“Princess Catherine The Third!”

“Your best friend is…”

“My little brother, Gustav!” 

“Wrong!” Raoul shook his head “Your best friend is-”   
“I know who my best friend is!” she interrupted stubbornly, marching up to him.    
“What a temper,” Raoul commented to himself. 

“I don’t like being contradicted!” the young woman threw the book into his arms.   
“That makes the two of us!” the con man challenged as he tossed the book back to her. 

“Continuing on,” Philippe nervously butted in before Christine threw the book at him.    
“I had enough! What do you know about me?” She began ranting, already frustrated “I’m so tired! And I don’t remember anything about my past! Just leave me alone!”

And with that, Christine turned away angrily, tears of frustration threatening to spill out. 

“Christine,” Philippe began after a moment of silence, his voice calm and relaxing “Look at me,” she turned her head a little to peer at him. 

“We’re all tired,” he continued “Now, shall we start again?”

When she nodded hesitantly, Philippe gave a warm, reassuring smile “Take a breath and count to ten,”

She took a deep breath and silently counted to fifteen, the extra five seconds being for the fact Raoul had annoyed her to her frustration. 

“You are much more than you think you are,” he reassured soothingly as he pulled out a handkerchief “So blow your little nose, and dry those pretty eyes. A princess like you can do anything if she had her mind to it! Ready?”   
“Set,” Raoul added, leaning towards the whiteboard. 

“Go!” Christine cheered, feeling slightly better after the pep talk. And with that, Philippe turned over the chalkboard, smacking his younger brother straight in the face from the impact.    
“Ow!” he yelled, clutching his nose as she tried to suppress a small laugh escaping her lips. 

“Your great aunt Olga,” Philippe circled a name on the board “Had so many parties and balls she hosted!”

“Oh,” she gasped before Raoul pointed to another name on the board “Your distant cousin Anton had loved spending time in the palace library!” before he asked with concern, watching as the street sweeper attempted to memorize names and faces of some distant relatives and eccentric cousins as quickly as possible “Got it, Christine?”   
“No, not really…” 

“The Grand Duke was short!” 

“Count Louise often wore a feathered hat!”

“I heard he’s now very fat…”

“I missed that cat,” she muttered, fondly remembering the days she spent at the holiday palace playing with his cat.    
“I don’t think we told her that…”

“Christine,” Raoul smiled “You’re a dream come true!” 

* * *

Now, before she could complete princess training, they were practicing a waltz. Poor Philippe groaned and massaged his temples over the past few hours. Despite his patient instructions, the two waltzing felt wrong. She kept looking away from his face, doing mental counts and he kept checking his behind, afraid of crashing as they waltzed. 

“Back straight!” Philippe yelled “What are you doing? That’s not a waltz! Stop kicking him!” 

“He stepped on my toe first!” she protested, feeling bad for Philippe to endure their bickering while feeling not-so-sorry for kicking Raoul in the shin, who winced in pain. 

After some painful hours of bickering and berating, Philippe gave up. Grimacing, he grumbled “We’ll work on it tomorrow as both of you are insufferable! I’m going to get a glass of gin!”

“I could use one too,” Raoul grumbled. 

“No!” and with that, his older brother exited the room. 

* * *

Great, _just great._ Now, he had to deal with that bratty little know-it-all all by himself! A heavy silence fell between the two as Christine glared at him, painting an irritated expression on her face. 

“Why are you always so angry with me?” he asked. 

“Why have you been so rude to me ever since I entered that palace?” Christine hissed.

He gave a hollow bark “Me? Rude to you? You acted as if you owned the place!”   
“How?” 

“You don’t take anything seriously and now, I’m going to have a welt on my shin because of you!”   
“You’re the one who stepped on my toes!” he stumbled back in shock before her voice softened and he could see her tear up, being vulnerable for the first time… “I’m trying, I swear I am…” she whispered hoarsely.

“I know,” he reassured “I’m sorry. I was just so frustrated that I… lashed out,” 

Now he had a closer look at her face, she was so drained and pale… 

“Are you alright?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. 

“Yes, yes,” she forced a smile “I’m just… tired,” She stood up and walked away “See you tomorrow…” 

Raoul could only stare at her as she walked out of the palace… It was already late. 

* * *

The next day, they were trying not to argue as they waltzed awkwardly. They were trying to perfect it for Philippe’s sake. Raoul could still sense her body tensing up whenever he touched her or approached her… 

“Can we stop? I don’t feel so well…” Raoul stopped. She was paler than usual and she was so cold. He helped her to a chair before sprinting to the kitchen to get a glass of water and a piece of bread, kneeling in front of her, eyes full of worry. 

“Did you have breakfast today?” 

“No,” she croaked, her eyes closed as she massaged her temples. He suddenly noticed dark circles under her eyes. Everything made sense: her frustration, her tardiness…

“How long did you sleep for?” 

“Two or three hours.” 

“Are you insane?” his voice rose with each word.

“I can’t lose my job. They’re not easy to come by…” 

Raoul felt guilt build up in his chest. This girl was falling apart because of him… Her groan of pain caused him to come back to reality… 

“I’ll take you to a guest room,” he offered as he wrapped his arm around her waist and carried her to a nearby guest room. She fell blindly on the bed once they arrived. Raoul was taken aback as he saw her already asleep on the mattress, looking vulnerable and fragile. He felt his heart pang with sympathy and wanted to protect her. She deserved better than this, and he was determined to help her… 

“I don’t know what you’ve been through and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but… I want to help you,” he whispered gently before exiting the room, every word of his genuine “Just… trust me,” 

* * *

Christine’s eyes fluttered open, yawning as she stretched her legs. She hadn’t had such good, long sleep in a long time… 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Raoul smiled from the open door. His eyes didn’t have the usual playful or teasing glint in them. They were filled with genuine concern and adoration. 

“I’m so sorry,” she began, feeling guilty for sleeping in “I don’t want to be a pity case for the both of you and-”

“It’s okay,” he smiled, his face apologetic “I want to help you, but you have to trust me…”

He would not admit it but, she finally found someone who would listen to her…

* * *

Philippe walked into the room, not believing what he saw! Raoul and Christine were dancing in harmony and in sync! They looked like a couple in love instead of two strangers lost in the ballroom… 

_ “Mon dieu,” _ he finally spoke up, speechless “Am I dreaming?”

Their grins answered him. Finally! The two were getting along as he wanted! No more arguing! And it was so peaceful and quiet… “We’ll wrap up early!” 

* * *

The weeks went on with less bickering, but with the same lessons. Christine still argued with Raoul at times but there was less animosity between them. Insults became teasing and she even laughed at a few of his jokes. 

She secretly loved the proximity between them. She didn’t know why but perhaps, it was because she only remembered how these touches would hurt her. She trusted him when he said nothing would harm her. And the foreign concept of a gentle touch slowly became more familiar… 

“I feel like someone new,” Christine commented happily. 

“You’re an expert now!” Raoul smiled tenderly and hugged her, ignoring the drumming heartbeat in her ears. 

* * *

“Anything concerning the Daaes, even the most preposterous rumour,” Erik stared at the three girls sternly “We take _very seriously,”_

“She’s a street sweeper!” One spoke up “She was homeless until she took up with them!”

“Her name is Christine!” Another interjected. 

“Thank you,” his tone was level as he said those words, clustering the stack of papers together, not looking them in the eye. 

“Are you going to arrest them?”   
“You’ve done your duty. And I’ve done mine. Listening to your gossip.” he tried to keep his voice calm and stoic. 

“It’s not gossip, it’s the truth!” she quickly defended before he slammed his fist on the desk, all eyes and ears on him now. Erik slowly stood up and placed a finger under the prostitute’s chin…    
“The next time I see the three of you soliciting on the streets,” he warned, his face and tone stoic, making his words more frightening, “I won’t look the other way.” The three women ran off and as he watched them run off, he ordered “File out a new report!”

The mere presence of one Daae could topple what the rebels had worked hard to achieve… there was no way this girl would waltz in to make their hard work go to waste… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


End file.
